


At the Solstice, the Sun Stands Still

by kitestringer



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 03:52:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitestringer/pseuds/kitestringer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus thinks he and Sirius have all the time in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Solstice, the Sun Stands Still

**Author's Note:**

> Marauders era, post-Hogwarts.
> 
> Originally posted in August 2007, in the Barefoot Boys LJ community. Inspired by [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/barefootboys/29283.html).

Sirius stretches out beside him, sprawled limbs claiming a good three-quarters of the blanket, careless in their entitlement. Remus, on his own sliver of blanket, leans back against the trunk of the tree that shelters them, watching the shifting patterns drawn on Sirius's body by light filtered through leaves and branches. Sirius's chest rises and falls, rises and falls. Remus hasn't turned a page in perhaps half an hour.

'Wake up.' Remus's mouth says the words before he has time to shut it, but he's rewarded with a slow, lazy grin.

'Wasn't sleeping,' Sirius says, though the thickness of his voice belies his words. 'Just waiting.'

'For?'

In the pause that follows, Sirius's grin grows broader. 'For you to give up the pretence of reading and do what you really want to do.'

An exquisite heat, low in Remus's belly. Will he ever become used to this? His cheeks flush and his mouth curves into a helpless smile, and he's glad Sirius's eyes are still closed. 'What—fetch some tea?'

Sirius sighs a long-suffering sigh. 'I can wait a long time, Moony,' he says, stretching and yawning and stretching until his shirt has ridden up nearly to his ribcage. 'But why should I have to?'

Remus closes his book and carefully sets it down in a dry patch of grass. 'Well, it builds character, doesn't it?' He's pleased at how cool he's able to keep his voice. He shifts and inches his way down to Sirius's level, props his head on one arm and rests his hand on that bare expanse of tanned skin between Sirius's shirt and trousers. Sirius hums contentedly. His hair is a bit longer than it was in school; not so long that it reaches his shoulders, but long enough to allow Remus to really sink his fingers into it, something he finds himself doing often. Now he brushes his hair away from a particularly appealing spot between his earlobe and neck proper, leans in to taste it against his darting tongue, a soft, open-mouthed kiss that makes the taut stomach beneath his hand twitch, just briefly, just a bit. His scent is dizzying. Closing his eyes, Remus lets his head come to rest on Sirius's broad shoulder, just to breathe the air.

Sirius's arm curls loosely around him. 'That really was all you wanted, wasn't it?' He sounds wearily amused.

'Mmm. For now, yes.' He won't explain it to him, smug as Sirius is. There's no need to explain the years when even a smile and an arm thrown around his shoulders was enough to send Remus into a rapture for days. This, now, hardly seems as though it could be real. Remus opens his eyes to see the sunlight drawing the same pattern across both their bodies. There are hours left before sunset. 'We've no need to hurry, do we?'

'Suppose not,' Sirius murmurs, already drifting back into sleep. His chest rises and falls, and Remus's hand moves with his every breath.


End file.
